Kiss Me When the Sun Goes Down

by Lisa Olsen

  “You look just right,” he smiled back, and for an instant, everything was perfect. The nerves melted away, for the both of us I think, and we smiled at each other across the threshold, that old magnetic pull still working like a charm. “But we should really get going.”

  “Oh right,” I nodded, grateful to be let off the hook for inviting him in for more awkward conversation. “Maggie…”

  “I won’t wait up,” the pretty brunette smiled back at me, turning to take the flowers into the kitchen.

  “Shall we go then?” I asked, stepping out onto the porch before anyone else in the household showed up, especially Carter. As he took my hand to lead me down the walk, I noticed his was cold. I mean, I know he’s a vampire, we both are, but his hands were super clammy. He must’ve noticed it at the same time, because he pulled his hand free to wipe it on his pants as soon as we reached the car.

  “I didn’t get a limousine, I’m sorry about that,” he frowned, pulling open the passenger’s side door for me.

  “That’s okay. What would we need a limo for?”

  Bishop shrugged as I climbed into his black SUV. “It’s fancy.”

  “I don’t mind. This way we don’t have to worry about the driver listening in on our conversation.”

  “That’s true,” he smiled, but I still saw his cheeks puff out with a long breath as he passed behind the car to get to the driver’s seat. I take it back, I think he was more nervous than I was.

  He drove us to La Petit Maison, handing the keys over to the red vested valet and squiring me inside, as if it was completely normal for two vampires to stroll into a fancy restaurant. I’d thought he was kidding when he said he wanted to go on a traditional date. Were we supposed to push the food around our plates and pretend to eat too?

  The place was busy, but he must’ve booked a reservation, because we were led right to our table, and I didn’t catch the flare of compulsion in the air. A string quartet played in the corner, adding to the din of conversation, louder than I would’ve expected for such an exclusive place. The waiter placed the oversized menus before us, and I pretended to study it, surreptitiously looking over the top of it to see if Bishop was doing the same. Instead, I caught him watching me.

  “This place is really nice,” I observed, more to fill the space than anything else.

  “Yeah, they have a nice quartet that plays, that’s what made me choose it. It’s too bad you can hardly hear it though.” He looked off toward the corner with the beginnings of a scowl.

  “Oh, I can hear it,” I assured him. “Enhanced senses and all.”

  “Right,” he nodded, relieved. “Good. You haven’t been here before then?”

  “No. It was a tad out of my price point before when I was a lowly college student, and since…”

  “We don’t eat,” he finished for me, setting the menu down. “I know, it’s a weird choice for our kind of date, but I thought maybe we could enjoy a couple of drinks before the show.”

  “There’s going to be a show?” I brightened considerably, especially since he didn’t appear to want me to play human for the night.

  “Yes, I got us tickets for La Boheme. I hope that’s alright.”

  “Sounds shiny to me, I love the opera,” I admitted with a wholehearted smile, and some of the starch went out of his shoulders.

  “Good, I was hoping you might,” he replied, breathing easier. “I, um… I like your shoes,” he added, which made my lips draw together in confusion. Could he even see my shoes under the table?

  “Ah… thanks,” I smiled back, not sure what else to say to that. My phone buzzed inside my purse, and I felt it vibrate through the table. Seeing as how only a handful of people had that number, and most of them knew I was on a date, I figured the chances of it being important were pretty high.

  “I’m sorry, do you mind if I…”

  “No, you go right ahead. I don’t mind at all,” he replied quickly, as if glad for the distraction.

  The message was from Carter, and read, Do you know where I can find a hardware store that’s open late?

  “Seriously?” I murmured out loud.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “Only with Carter’s sense of the appropriate.” Ask Lee or Gunnar, I’m busy. I sent back. “I’m sorry, what were we talking about?”

  “I have no idea,” he admitted, letting out a shaky breath, and I joined him in a long exhalation of my own.

  “This date thing is harder than I thought it would be.”

  “Right?” His hand came up in validation as I addressed the elephant in the room. “What’s up with that? I mean, I love you, you love me…”

  Any singing in my mind took a backseat as he so glibly trotted out the L word and stomped all over that elephant. “Oh… are we there already? I thought…”

  His discomfort returned in spades. “I mean, I thought you said… You don’t have to…”

  “No, I do, I mean… I just didn’t think we’d…” Talk about awkward. “We talked about giving each other space, so…”

  “No, you’re right. We did agree to do that. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  I reached for his hand, ignoring the sweaty palm to give it a squeeze. “It’s okay. We’re both just…”

  “And ’ow are we zees evening, mademoiselle and monsieur?” The waiter took that opportunity to burst into the conversation with a French accent that had to be fake, it was so over the top.

  “We’re…”

  “Bon, bon,” he smiled, running right over my reply. “And would zee lovely laydee care to start wheez an hors d’oeuvres or an aperitif before deenair?”

  “Oh, we won’t be ordering dinner tonight, but I’d love some aquavit if you have it, or a glass of merlot if you don’t,” I replied with a polite smile, only to be met with icy disdain.

  “You are no ordering deenair?” The waiter wrinkled his nose as though he smelled stinky cheese.

  “Non,” I replied. “Is that a problem?” As long as we were paying customers, I didn’t see what the big deal was.

  “Oui, eet ees a problem. If you are not ordering deenair, you weel ’ave to geeve up your table. Eet ees our polleecee,” he sniffed.

  Bishop’s spine stiffened. “Look, pal, we just want to have a couple of drinks and listen to the music.”

  “Zen you are more zan welcome to do eet in zee bar area.”

  I felt it the moment Bishop’s will reached for the waiter’s. “Listen…”

  “Um, Bishop?” I stopped him with a hand to his arm. “It’s cool. They’re really busy. I feel kind of weird sitting here when people are waiting to eat.” Especially since more than a few heads had turned our way.

  Bishop turned to me, and I saw the tension warring with relief in his face. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

  “Sure. We can get a drink anywhere. And we have the opera to look forward to, we don’t need to listen to the music here.”

  He let out a short breath and nodded, rising from his seat to pull out my chair. “Okay, where do you want to go?”

  “You’d better do something about him first,” I whispered, jerking my head toward the waiter who’d frozen in place, listening carefully thanks to the beginnings of Bishop’s compulsion.

  “Oh, right. You can have the table, have a nice night.” Bishop released him, his hand at the small of my back.

  I couldn’t resist, pausing in front of the waiter before we left, delivering a brief burst of my own compulsion. “You should smile more. I think it’ll make you a happier person,” I whispered, gratified to see his bright smile as I walked away. “So, where to now?”

  “Ah… we have about an hour and a half before the show starts.”

  “That should give us plenty of time to… Oh, excuse me.” My phone buzzed again, and I dug it out, frowning over the display. Another text from Carter.

  You’re not using the office downstairs for anything, are you?

  “Let me reply to him and get him off my
back, okay?” I offered Bishop an embarrassed smile as I texted back, Ah, no. Why? Do you need an office? You’re welcome to it. The basement office had never seen much use, not even when Rob had stored some papers there. “Sorry, where did you want to go?”

  “Let’s see. There’s a nice place a couple of blocks over, no music, but it’s a fairly upscale place.”

  Cool beans, another snooty place. “You know, we don’t have to go anywhere fancy.”

  His brows twitched closer. “But you look so nice. I can’t take you just anywhere.”

  Was that what was bothering him? “This is San Francisco, people won’t bat an eye if we turn up at the opera or a gas station mini-mart dressed like this. It’s fine, Bishop, you don’t have to try and impress me,” I smiled up at him.

  My phone buzzed again, and I didn’t even bother to read the message, sending. Whatever it is, we can talk about it when I get home. “I’m sorry,” I apologized again, resolving to leave my phone tucked away in my purse for the rest of the night.

  “It’s okay,” Bishop said with a faint smile that turned rueful as his own phone buzzed. “Actually, I need to make a quick call. I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s fine. Why don’t you give me the valet ticket and I’ll go get the car and meet you out front?”

  “Ah, sure,” he agreed, handing the ticket over. The valet was pretty quick at retrieving Bishop’s SUV, and so was Bishop’s call. From the hangdog expression on his face, I guessed it hadn’t been a good call.

  “I’m really sorry, but we have to swing by the Hart,” he said, sliding into the driver’s seat. “I promise, I’ll make it quick.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind. We can get that drink there,” I smiled, trying to let him know it was fine since he looked so cast down about it.

  “Are you sure? I kind of wanted it to be, you know, special.”

  “Special isn’t about where we go, it’s who we’re with.”

  Bishop’s head tipped back to lay against the headrest, his smile returning as he looked at me. “When you’re right, you’re right. To the Bleeding Hart it is.”

  The bar wasn’t super full, but it was still early yet by vampire standards. Almost immediately, Bishop peeled off to talk to Cage, and I made my way to the bar, looking forward to catching up with Laveda. Unfortunately, the usually sassy bartender didn’t look all that happy to see me, turning her back on me to go talk to another customer when she saw me coming. I waited patiently, and eventually, she made her way back to my side of the bar.

  “What can I get for you, Your Grace?” she asked, her gaze focused tightly on the bar, which she swabbed with a damp rag. Her lips were pinched tightly together, red-gold curls bobbing as she scrubbed and scrubbed, as though the bar was made of cholera and only she stood between the world and the next great outbreak.

  I didn’t think she’d ever called me by my title before, not once. Had I done something to tick her off? “Ah, would a zombie be too much trouble?”

  She made a sound like a cross between a snort and a snarl. “Wouldn’t be the first time you caused trouble.”

  Chapter Three

  “Shénme?” I blinked. What the heck was her problem? “I’ll have a beer if it’s too much hassle.”

  “No, it’s fine.” She threw down her rag. “I’ll get you whatever your heart desires. That’s the way of it, ain’t it?” Her cockney accent was sharper than usual, a sign of her temper.

  I stared back at her, too astonished by her attitude to ask what I’d done to earn it. Before I could ask, Bishop hurried over with a sheepish cast to his face.

  “Listen, this might take longer than I thought. Instead of dragging you all over town, would you mind waiting here with that drink while I go take care of something?”

  Was I disappointed? Sure. It didn’t bode well for our relationship if he couldn’t go a single night without leaving work behind. But I knew I’d be the same way if something important popped up. Whatever it was, it was clearly significant, and I knew he wouldn’t be leaving my side unless he had no choice. I tucked my disappointment aside, mustering a sympathetic smile.

  “Sure, I can do that.”

  Bishop reached for my hand, giving it a brief squeeze. “This isn’t how I imagined this night going.”

  “It’s okay, we have all night. Go take care of it and I’ll be here.”

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “I know,” I smiled, squeezing his hand back. “Be safe.” I stole his line, leaning in to kiss his smooth cheek.

  “Unbe-fucking-lievable,” Laveda muttered under her breath from across the bar, but I picked it up as clear as day.

  “Is there some kind of problem, Laveda?” I asked after Bishop had left and she came to deliver my drink.

  “Course not, Your Grace,” she replied blandly. “Wouldn’t anyone ever have a problem with you, would they?”

  “Okay, seriously. What’s got your knickers in a knot?” I demanded, keeping my voice low. So far, nobody seemed to be following our conversation, and I preferred to keep it that way.

  “You’re going to stand there and pretend like you don’t know?” she gaped at me, and all I could do was shrug. “You move on like Rob wasn’t nothing to you, showing up here, all tarted up with Bishop to rub his face in it, and I’m supposed to smile and kiss your arse like nothing’s wrong?”

  I choked on my drink. “Is Rob here?” My head swiveled around, hoping to catch some sign of him, but he wasn’t anywhere in sight. Had he slipped out when I showed up with Bishop?

  “No, why would he be when you broke his heart?” Laveda retorted, and my temper kicked in.

  “When I broke his heart?” That wasn’t quite how I remembered it going down. If Rob wasn’t even there, what was she getting all grumpycakes about? What business of hers was any of it anyway? “What did he tell you?”

  “He didn’t have to. I know him well enough to hear the spark gone out of his voice when last we spoke,” she admitted, lower lip thrust out pugnaciously.

  “So how am I rubbing his face in anything if he’s not even here?”

  “You don’t think he knows about this? Word gets around in this community. Everybody knows you and Bishop are in each other’s pockets again.”

  “So what if we are?” It wasn’t as if I’d jumped right from Rob’s bed to Bishop’s, and even if I had, Rob had been the one to do the leaving, not me. “Not that it’s any business of yours, but I wanted to try and work things out, Rob’s the one who decided it was too hard, okay? I’m sorry if you think I should be covered in ash and sack cloth, but I’m trying to move on with my life, and so is he.”

  “A shade too quick if you ask me.”

  “Well, I didn’t,” I snapped, trying hard to remember that she wasn’t trying to be a b.i.t.c.h., she was just upset that someone had hurt her cousin. It bothered me too, but I’d been living with it for weeks, and I’d finally made peace with the idea that Rob and I weren’t meant to be together. Why couldn’t she? “Look, he’s fine with it, why can’t you be?”

  “You think he’s fine?” Laveda snorted. “He’s all in pieces.”

  Part of me twisted inside to hear that, but I knew I didn’t have the means to make it better for him. “There’s nothing I can do about that. It’s not up to me to decide if Rob needs fixing, and it’s not up to you either. And we both know he’s not the type to want my help anyway.” He’d more than proven that in the past.

  “But the two of you was so good together,” Laveda sniffed, eyes turning watery, and I resisted the urge to pull her into a hug.

  “Yes, sometimes we were. But a lot of the time we weren’t, on an epic scale. And it wasn’t all my fault or his, and some of it was nothing more than a ridiculously messed up set of circumstances we got stuck with. But it’s over, Laveda. We both have to look to the future, and that’s what I’m doing with Bishop, hoping to find the same thing everybody wants. Love. I’m not going to apologize for that.”

  “I still think you had it
with Rob.”

  “I did, but it wasn’t enough. If that means we can’t be friends anymore, then I’ll understand. But I’d hate to lose you too.”

  Quick as anything, Laveda came out from behind the bar. I tensed at first, not sure if she’d be coming with claws extended, but she clung to me like a spider monkey in a fierce hug. “I hate to hear him so forlorn is all,” she sniffed. “Like he’s lost and he don’t know which way is up no more.”

  “I know,” I whispered into her hair, holding to her warmth and that alluring scent that reminded me so much of Rob when he’d been alive. “It’ll suck for a while, and then eventually, he’ll forget all about me.” I pulled back to give her a hopeful smile. “Maybe even meet someone new.”

  Something flashed across her face, so quickly I almost missed it. Shouldn’t that be what she wanted? For him to meet someone new and be happy? I didn’t have a chance to ask, as Leander and his brother Jarrod appeared by my side, inviting me to join them at their table. Part of me wanted to stick around and talk to Laveda to make sure there wasn’t something else wrong there, but she’d already gone back behind the bar again, tending to her other customers.

  I let myself be led to their table, chatting about the upcoming New Year’s Eve party I was hosting. There was a general air of excitement about it, since every vampire in town was invited, not just the council and high muckety mucks of society, and I was running out of time to find a place to host it. So far every place Maggie had shown me was either not big enough, or already booked, and I refused to use my compulsion to steal someone else’s spot.

  I didn’t even notice how much time had passed until Bishop came hurrying in, and I politely excused myself from the owners’ table. Bishop looked harried, his tie askew, and when I got close enough, I could tell there was a droplet of blood on his sleeve. A regular person might not have noticed it at all on the dark suit, but a vampire could smell it out right away. I was almost sure it wasn’t his, but I had to ask, “Are you alright?”